A Man After Midnight (4 page)

Chapter Five

She wrote a message for Aldy and set it on the table in their room, explaining where she planned to be and with whom. Caroline stared at the words and bit her lower lip, not sure how to feel about the fact that she was planning on plunging into a vacation affair.  She grabbed a pen and some hotel advertised paper, drawing a line down it with one side saying ‘Pros’ and the other saying ‘Cons’.  She quickly started writing all her thoughts down, the whys and the why-nots.  Then she sat back and read over her inner turmoil. 

All the second-guessing came down to one simple fact: that in three days, she could leave it all behind.  What happened in New York could stay in New York.  Her fantasies explored.  Her body sexually satisfied.  Her heart untouched.   As long as she was careful not to read anything more into Wren’s words and actions, then all that would remain after the trip were the amazing memories.

Yes, the perfect weekend affair.

As she adjusted the temperature of the shower, Caroline knew she didn’t want to be
that
woman who let one bad experience ruin an opportunity of a lifetime.  She had never imagined that she would be involved in a little vacation affair, but she hoped she was pragmatic enough to handle it.  Wren Calder could only be a fling, and perhaps that’s exactly what she needed right now.  Someone who didn’t know her too well, who could point out all her faults and missteps.  He wouldn’t expect her to look perfect all the time, to never have a zit or PMS and bloating.  There would be no petty arguments over what was for dinner, or who would take out the trash.  There would be no decay of communication until all that remained were generic questions.  He wouldn’t expect her to be anyone except his bed partner for three more nights, to share in the bliss and ecstasy of sexual abandonment, which she had never, in her entire life, experienced.  Sex with her ex-husband, Greg, had been routine, slightly boring.  The only way she could climax was by being on top.  Could it be Wren himself who had managed to turn her body into a quivering mass of sexual need, or was the thought of all the naughty delights he promised the true culprit? 

Did she even care?

Caroline stepped under the hot spray of the shower.  The last day with Greg filtered through her mind as she washed her hair.

He lay on the bed, staring up at the bedroom ceiling when she had walked into the room.  Caroline had spent the day mindlessly walking through the mall, not really knowing what else to do because she didn’t want to be at home.

She stood in the doorway, looking at him with emotions that fluctuated between half-angry and half-sad.  He hadn’t bothered to crawl beneath the covers and his rumpled clothing stood out like a sore thumb––the same clothes he had worn when he had left the night before, to go drinking with some buddies.  There was a slight scent of stale alcohol clinging to him that permeated the bedroom, so she moved to open a window.  Then she sat on the edge of the bed not saying a word until the tears choking her throat had cleared enough for normal speech.

“I can’t go on like this,” she finally stated.

“I know,” was all he said.  It was the first verbal confirmation that things were over.

“I want to ask you a question.”

“All right.”

She turned sideways to look at him, capturing his gaze.  “Are you having an affair?”

“No,” he replied softly, maintaining eye contact until her shoulders drooped a little in relief.

“I’m not happy anymore,” she continued, casting her gaze downward to the bedspread to study it.

“Neither am I.”  Such a simple reply, but for the first time in a long time they agreed on something.

“Where do we go from here?”

In his usual logical manner, he started outlining the possibilities.  “Well, one, we ignore what’s been happening and continue on as we were.  Things might work themselves out or we might end up hating each other.  Two, we move into different bedrooms and try to work out our problems, rehashing the same old things we’ve been trying to hash out for a while.  Or three, we separate and try to remain friends.”

Tears started falling down Caroline’s cheeks as he talked.  “I don’t want to try to work things out,” she admitted.

He didn’t say anything for a moment.  Then, almost too softly for her to hear, he replied, “Me neither.”

When she looked at him again there were matching tears rolling down his cheeks, and he was doing nothing to wipe them away or hide them.  It was the first time she had seen him cry openly.

And she had believed him.  She had believed that he’d been just as heartbroken as she that their marriage couldn’t survive, that their love hadn’t been deep enough or strong enough to carry them through the bad times.  It was only after he had moved out that she had learned he’d used her emotions against her, to cover up his infidelity.  And by the time she had found out, it had been too late to really do anything about it. 

Being played for a fool really sucked.

That was when the armor had come on and the walls had been put up.  Caroline made a plan: the first thing she’d done was to leave California behind to move back home to Louisiana, away from memories––and away from Greg.   

After washing and drying her hair, she tackled the problem of deciding what to wear.  April in New York promised to be humid with a hint of bright sun, so she opted for a flowing skirt and a short-sleeved shirt. 

Caroline finished putting on her mascara and studied herself in the brightly lit mirror.  She studied her reflection, trying to see past the superficial image staring back at her to the woman who lay underneath.  Almost thirty, and she had never dared live out the fantasies that played deep within her mind. 

A divorcee, who had stumbled upon a man who rocked her world … why look a gift horse in the mouth?

Chapter Six

The elevator had to stop at every floor to allow people on, so when she finally found herself on the ground floor, Caroline hurried to find Wren.  As she turned the corner from the elevators, she spotted him talking with a stunningly beautiful woman, and the body language between the two suggested a deeper intimacy.  The woman was almost as tall as he with four-inch stilettos making her legs look impossibly long.  Long red hair, the kind that came from an expensive dye job, tumbled in waves down her back.  The white dress she wore made her hair seem like fire.

As Caroline watched, the redhead twined her hands around Wren’s arm, molding her curvaceous body into his.  Wren’s back faced her, so she could only see the redhead’s face, and her expression spoke a thousand words.  Something existed between these two people, and it wasn’t hard to imagine what. Caroline’s stomach churned, forcing her to turn away from the sight. 

She didn’t think the redhead was his wife.  In fact, he’d answered no to her question of being married in the taxi.  Besides, no ring encircled the woman’s finger.  Diamonds adorned the woman’s neck and ears, so there wasn’t a high possibility that she’d not display a large diamond engagement right or wedding band if she were married.  But it could mean that Wren had a significant other, and the thought had Caroline reevaluating her pros and cons list that she’d made earlier. Did she ignore what she just witnessed? And if she did, what did that tell her about her own convictions?

Caroline took the long way back to Wren’s side, walking around the large lobby to give him a few moments with the redhead.  When she finally saw him again he stood alone, looking at his watch.  A patch of light turned his dark hair blue-black.  He wore jeans and a button down shirt tucked in at the waist, looking scrumptious.  Caroline wasn’t sure if he looked better in business attire or street clothes, but in either ensemble, he took her breath away.

Caroline plastered a smile on her face and walked up to him with a confidence she was far from actually feeling.  Compared to the elegant redhead, she felt very frumpy.

“Sorry I’m late, but the elevator had multiple stops,” she said.

“I just got here myself,” he replied, smiling.

She saw his eyes stray to the deep V of her shirt, at the pale globes that rose from the push-up bra she wore.  She was glad she went with her instinct to wear the tight button-up.

He leaned down and kissed her mouth, lingering for a long moment. Caroline’s heart raced as arousal surged through her blood.  Now that she knew just how magical it was between them, she was looking forward to the next round of bedroom shenanigans with him.  Just when she was ready to shuck the whole tourist thing, he pulled back and clasped her hand firmly in his.

“Ready to pound the pavement?” he asked.

Caroline took a deep breath and pushed down the urge to drag him into the elevator.  She nodded and the next second, they were out the door.  Their hotel rested centrally in Times Square, so they headed south, traveling down Broadway as it traversed through lower Manhattan.  From her taxi window she watched people walk with purpose, a distinctive stride that was unique to city living.  Even the tourists were able to adapt to it after an hour mingling with the natives.  Just watching the frenetic energy the city moved with made her tired.  She liked big cities, but New York was more than an ordinary metropolis.  It was a whole solar system unto itself.

“Do you live here in New York?” she asked him as they walked hand in hand through Central Park. 

“I did,” he said.  “I’m in Paris right now, overseeing that branch.  But I miss New York.  I was born and raised here in Manhattan.”

“I’m slightly glad to be back in Louisiana, though I really resented moving back at the time.”
“Why?”

“I felt as if it were a step backward.”  She shrugged.  “I wanted to see the world, and that’s not how my life evolved.”

“My grandmother started Troublemaker, so I always knew where my future was heading.”

“Let me guess, the company is named after you.”

His eyes widened in mock amazement.  “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” she said with a wink.

Walking through the park, enjoying the sunshine, and laughing with the handsomest man she’d ever been in the presence of, enchanted her.  For a moment, a very brief moment, Caroline’s world felt peaceful and right.

At lunchtime, Wren walked her to a restaurant that sat in a small grotto off 4
th
Street and Greenwich Village.  Tall, potted trees lined the walkway and string lights hung from the canopy.  The cramped seating and mismatched furniture added to the charming eccentricity of the outdoor seating.

Caroline finished up her salmon and endive salad while Wren topped off his turkey club with coffee.  He cocked his head to study her and she wiped her mouth with her napkin before arching an eyebrow at his scrutiny. 

“You’re only here a few days,” he said.

“Yes,” she replied, laying the napkin on the plate and pushing it slightly away.

“And you fly to where?”

“New Orleans.”

“You live in New Orleans?”

“No, I live in Baton Rouge.  Flying through New Orleans is cheaper.”

“What do you do in Baton Rouge?”

“I’m a manager of an independent pharmacy.”

“You enjoy it?”

“I do, actually.”  Her lips twisted in a grimace.  “I moved back there after my marriage collapsed.”

“From where?”

“Are we playing twenty questions?”

“How else am I to learn about you?”

One eyebrow pitched upward.  “Why do you want to know anything about me?”

He frowned.  “I generally like to know something about the woman I sleep with.”

Caroline could feel heat engulf her face.  At that moment, the waiter came back and cleared the table, asking if they wanted anything more.  Both declined and Wren handed over his credit card. 

“California,” she answered when they were alone again.  “Los Angeles.”

“Troublemaker Cosmetics has an office in L.A.,” he said.  “Beautiful weather.  Horrendous traffic.”

“I think New York City gives L.A. a run for its money on the traffic issue,” she pointed out.

“Maybe, but we have a superb subway system.”

“L.A. has a subway.  Somewhat.”  She narrowed her eyes as she assessed him, then shook her head as if coming to a conclusion.  “I don’t see you as a subway person.”

“The subway is the only way to travel in Paris,” he admitted, holding up his finger and thumb measuring about an inch.  “The streets are this big.  So why California?”

“Greg wanted to be an actor,” she replied.  “We moved there together.”

“Your husband?”

“Ex-husband.  Or will be, as soon as he signs the divorce papers.”

“He hasn’t signed them yet?”

“No.” She sighed.  “He gave me this song and dance about how he lost them, so the paralegals had to redraft them.”

“You’re not using a lawyer?”

She shook her head.  “There’re no assets, and neither of us is contesting.  Paralegals were cheaper.”

“And legal?”

“Of course.”

“Hmm,” he said, drumming his fingers against the tabletop.  “I don’t like the fact that you’re still married.  I swore to myself that I’d never have sex with a married woman, and you’ve made me break my vow.”

“Shh,” she admonished, looking around to make sure no one heard his off-hand comment.  “It’s not like that, and you know it.  I doubt you were a monk before I came along.”

“My grandmother thought I was a saint.”  Laughter made his grey eyes sparkle like river rocks. 

“Poor deluded woman.” She shook her head sorrowfully.  “Anyway, once those papers are filed that chapter of my life will be all over.”  She couldn’t keep the sad little hitch out of her voice.

“Do you still love him?”

The waiter returned at that moment with the receipt.  Wren thanked him, signed the slip and put his card back in his wallet.
Caroline stared down at her fingers that rubbed the stem of her wine glass.  “I don’t think I ever really was in love with him, not the way that a woman should be when she pledges her life and heart in holy matrimony.  I was very young and all my friends were getting married, so I wanted to get married too.   He was the guy I had been with since freshman year of high school.  But maybe that’s the exact reason why he found someone else to be with.”  She looked into his now-somber gaze.  “No, I don’t love him anymore, but I can’t help but be sorry that my marriage failed.”

He reached for her hand, his thumb stroking the soft skin on top.  “The failure of a marriage is never one-sided.”

“I know that.”

“If it makes you any happier, I’m very glad you’re able to sit here with me today.”

The touch of his skin upon hers caused butterflies to flutter in her stomach.  Her heart started thudding in excitement.  Why did she always want to jump his body every time he touched her?

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.  “I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I’m glad too.”

He leaned, as if he planned to kiss her, but instead his lips found her ear to whisper, “Have you ever had sex in public before?”

“Do you count last night at the club?”

“That was delicious groping and mutual masturbation,” he said.  “I’m talking about hot, pounding sex where someone could see us at any moment.”

The mental picture he put in her head made her juices flow.  She shifted on her seat to add pressure right on the spot between her thighs that needed it most.

“Come on, Caroline,” he continued in an inviting tone.  “Remember how you felt last night?  The danger of possibly being discovered?  Didn’t it make you hot?  Wicked?  Wasn’t your climax more intense?  Mine was.”

“Where?”   She breathed in rising lust.  She wasn’t going to pretend that his words didn’t affect her, nor was she going to play coy with what he implied.

He looked around.  “Around the side of the building.  Follow me in five seconds.”

Caroline watched him before taking a glance around to see if anyone eyed them, wondering why two people weren’t using the direct path to exit the outdoor patio area.  She couldn’t understand how no one could hear the frantic beat of her heart, or see the lust on her face.

She rose and made her way casually after him.

The walkway he led her to ran right along the side of the building.  Brick on one side and an iron fence on the other with vines twisted along it all the way down to the gated door.  On either end someone could walk up, find them, expose them, but the danger and potential discovery only made the juices flood Caroline’s panties even more.

As she reached him, the clink of glasses and the tinkle of silverware against dishes only heightened the anticipation for what they were about to do.  Wren held out his hand and she took it, giving in to the lust that coursed through her veins.

For a second he simply gripped her hand, staring intently into her face, and then he yanked her forward, turning her until she faced the brick wall.  He moved his big body behind her, his hard cock pressing into her ass.  He placed her hands above her head and held them with one hand.

His other hand was already lifting her skirt and pushing her panties aside, finding a floodgate of desire all for him.  Caroline panted as he used one finger to slide up and down her slit, coating her pussy lips with her wetness.

“I see this turns you on,” he whispered into her ear.  “Knowing at any second someone could look down this alley and see me getting ready to fuck you?”

Caroline moaned, unable to form words.  Her heart felt like a hummingbird, beating almost uncontrollably.  She stuck her ass out as far as she could, and in response he ground his dick into it. 

“You’re so fucking hot, Caroline,” he whispered again.  He slid his two fingers into her weeping cunt, eliciting another moan.

“Shh,” he warned.  “Unless you
want
to be watched.  Do you, Caroline?”

The mental image he invoked caused her to rock her hips as pure, untapped lust swept through her.  The wind blew through the small walkway, touching her smooth skin as if trying to cool the fire that threatened to consume her.  

In response, Wren pumped his fingers, fucking her faster, using his

hips to keep her as still as possible.  The few small movements she could make only teased her for more.  

“Keep your hands up,” he whispered into her ear.  “Don’t stop touching that wall, or I’m going to have to punish you for disobedience.” 

His hand left hers to travel down, and the subsequent small rip of a condom wrapper seemed overly loud. Briefly, she wondered how he managed that one-handed but soon didn’t care as his hips moved against her backside.  No doubt, he was rolling the condom on.  Then he reached down to lift her right leg up and draped it over his thigh.  The hand that was buried in her pussy helped to guide his cock in.

He thrust and flattened her to the brick wall, but she didn’t even notice the rough surface.  Her world centered on where he impaled her, filling her up and stretching her wide.  Her eyes rolled back into her head at the absolute bliss that poured through her.